Learning To Share
by kuraireikan
Summary: They've run from Banten, Raikoushuu wants them dead, and Yoite is almost out of time. Can he take that final step to go from walking in the shadows to living, and loving, before it's too late. With Miharu there to help him...anything is possible.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own nor do I profit from the writing or posting of this story.

Learning To Share: 1

He awoke in the dark and for a moment couldn't remember where he was. It was a frightening realization and one that made his heart race painfully for several minutes. When his pulse at last returned to some semblance of normal, for him anyway, he allowed his body to relax; his muscles to loosen and ease back into the futon, and his eyes to open, showing him now what he had missed upon waking. He was in a bedroom, the guest room he imagined, in Hanabusa-san's house.

And now that the sound of his madly racing heartbeat no longer filled his ears, he could hear the gentle breathing of someone sleeping, and sleeping very close. He tilted his head to the left and down only to have his nose tickled by a mop of dark hair. For one horrible moment he thought that he might sneeze and wake the young boy who was sleeping so peacefully by his side. How embarrassing that would be, to be caught in such a position!

'Wait…' Why should he be embarrassed? This wasn't his doing, was it?

It struck Yoite then that he had no idea whose doing this was. In fact, the last thing he could remember was sitting in the living room, next to Miharu, and eating the evening meal that Hanabusa-san had made for them. 'I fell asleep again.' Yes, that had to have been it. He'd been doing that quite a lot lately. Not that it was surprising; on the contrary, this sort of thing was long overdue given his condition.

'Well,' he thought to himself, 'that explains why I'm in bed, but…' and he once again looked down at the small bundle of a boy that was curled into his side, head on his left shoulder and tucked up under his chin.

No, it didn't explain this at all.

Not that he minded. Miharu was warm, and soft, and his weight wasn't such that it was uncomfortable. Just the opposite in fact; this slight weight was somehow comforting, as if it were grounding him, reminding him body and soul that he was still a part of this world. How long had he wandered in the darkness of his soul, not knowing if he was really alive or just a walking shadow, a wraith? But here, in this place, with the weight of this small and unassuming boy laid upon him, he finally knew the answer.

It felt good. It felt right, far more so than he cared to admit. And therein lay the problem. He wanted this, had wanted it for longer then he had even realized, until Miharu had come along. But this wasn't the sort of thing that he was allowed to have. He knew Miharu thought otherwise, had been trying to convince him of it for a while now, but Miharu didn't know the truth. Yoite couldn't help but wonder, for the thousandth time, what he would think if he did.

At the moment Miharu lived in a world of quiet ignorance. Granted he was living in the world of nabari but that didn't necessarily mean he had given up his innocence, at least not yet. There were many things about this world, both worlds, of which he knew nothing. To him, Yoite was just another boy, a friend, and that was all that mattered.

Yes, they were friends, but would they stay that way, could they stay that way, if Miharu were ever to find out that Yoite was not another boy.

'He won't care.'

He knew this as easily and as concretely as he knew that the sun was round. Miharu had other friends, after all, and more than one of them were girls; so, the fact that his best friend wasn't a boy wouldn't bother him in the slightest. The problem was, he wasn't a girl, either. And how exactly was he supposed to explain that to his 15 year old friend?

Yoite had considered telling him lots of times. He had even dreamed of what it would be like, to finally let someone know, to let go of this awful, heavy secret. And he just knew that if anyone would understand, would accept it…him, for what he was without recrimination, it would be Miharu.

He allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, a daydream really; of how nice it would be to hold Miharu like this, for Miharu to want to hold him like this, forever. How nice it would be to just lie here this way, any time they wanted, wrapped up close and warm against each other. No accusations, no harsh comments or ugly words; just acceptance, and maybe…love.

'Love…?' Was it even possible?

He'd had the sense for a while now that Miharu thought of him as more than a friend. And he had to admit that his own attachment for his young friend felt much stronger then that as well. But between them lay that awful truth that Yoite hadn't yet had the courage to speak to him about, and boy did it need to be discussed. Or it might, if by some miracle of miracles his feelings for Miharu weren't one-sided. Did he really feel the same, or was this all just wishful thinking, another pretty daydream?

The thing was, the longer he waited to bring it up, and the closer they got to the time when it wouldn't matter anyway, the harder it became for him to do it, to open up. The fact that Miharu was likely to be as ill prepared for this discussion as he was didn't help matters any. He gently brought his left hand up to rest on Miharu's back and let a small sigh escape him as he realized, not for the first time, that daydreams were just that, dreams.

So, what was he supposed to do now? He didn't have the strength, from this position, to move Miharu off of him in a manner gentle enough not to wake the boy. And he definitely didn't want him to wake up and realize that he was sprawled all over the top of…

Of what?

'Death.' He was a shinigami, a god of death. People didn't just lie down next to beings such as him and drift off into a comfortable and peaceful sleep. That's just not how the world worked. But Miharu wasn't people in any ordinary sense, he was Miharu. And to him, Yoite wasn't death or any incarnation thereof, he was just Yoite. He was a friend, and perhaps a little more. Well, he could hope.

Suddenly his heart began to race again. The feeling had returned to his lower limbs, now that he was awake, and he'd just realized that more than Miharu's head had found purchase on him, instead of being content to simply lie next to him. Miharu had at some point, presumably in his sleep, thrown his left leg over Yoite, and that was where it now rested, right between the older boy's legs.

He couldn't stop the feeling of near panic that hit him at that moment and his heart once again began to slam painfully against his ribs. It took every ounce of control he had not to throw Miharu off of him and curl himself up into a ball in the corner, as he did so often at Yukimi's.

'Oh Kami, if such a being truly exists; please, don't let him wake up like this! He can't find out like this!'

It was several more minutes until he had calmed himself enough to be able to breathe without pain, to relax once again back into the futon cushion. But this time, when he opened his eyes, what little light came into the room through the blinds swam across his vision.

He was crying.

How long had it been since he had cried? Not in pain, everybody cries in pain, at one time or another in their lives. This was fear. How long had it been since he'd known any fear, much less fear of a nature and level that could bring him to tears? How had it happened that he, a kira user, a murderer of dozens if not hundreds of people, a death god, could be so afraid of falling from grace in the eyes of one small boy, as to be brought to tears at just the thought?

He didn't know. And what was more, he didn't want to know. All he wanted and needed to know was that right here, right now, Miharu was his friend…and he needed a friend, this friend, every bit as much as he needed air. And that was why he couldn't risk telling him the truth.

He couldn't tell Miharu what he wanted so desperately to know but hadn't dared to ask. He couldn't admit, even to his best friend, why death wasn't enough for him, why he had to be completely wiped out of existence. Death, killing, even murder were understood, and to a degree they were even accepted in the world. But he was something far worse, something that he prayed Miharu would never have to know even existed in this world, or any other.

'I am neither.'

'I am nothing.'

So he laid there, on that borrowed futon as calmly and quietly as he could, silent tears sliding down his cheeks, and prayed that Miharu would move again in his sleep. Or, at the very least, he would be groggy enough when he did wake up that Yoite could shift the little one before he could realize the truth about his friend.

'I'm a freak who should never have been born. That's why you must erase me, Miharu. And you have to do it soon, before I need you so much that I can't let go. Being close to me will only spoil you, make you ugly, make you dirty…like me.'

He froze as a soft sigh brushed across his collar bone and grimaced when that slender leg shifted just the tiniest bit. It was staggering, really, to think how quickly the most beautiful of dreams could be twisted into a nightmare.

"Please Miharu," he whispered as his tears slid down onto soft dark hair, "keep you promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own nor do I profit from the writing or posting of this story.

Learning To Share: 2

He was dreaming, and it was a beautiful dream. So beautiful that he never wanted to wake up.

It was exactly what he'd pictured in his mind when he'd told Yoite that they could be together forever. They were walking, hand in hand, on a beach somewhere. He didn't know where and it didn't really matter. What mattered was that they were together, and they were happy.

They came to a large piece of drift wood, a log really, just a few feet from the edge of the water. The tide was receding so there was no threat of their getting wet. Despite everything, he couldn't find it in himself to stop worrying over Yoite's health. They sat on the log and watched the sunset for what seemed like hours, although he knew that was ridiculous. The sun never set that slowly in real life. But this was a dream, his dream, and he could make the sunset last as long as he wanted.

Afterward, when the moon had risen and bathed the whole beach in silver light, they got up and walked back, still hand in hand, all the way to their little house. It wasn't a great distance but it wasn't a short one either. They had designed it that way.

There were other places on the beach that they could have gone each night, places that were closer. But Yoite was okay now and this walk, the length of it, was their way of celebrating that fact, of confirming the truth of it and marking it in their hearts as well as their minds. It was a quarter mile walk to their special place, that particular beach, and they did it every evening, no matter the weather, just to watch the end of another day. They sat there together, on that weathered old log of drift wood and watched, with no fear that this might be their last day. No fear to ruin this moment.

After each sunset they walked the quarter mile home to have tea and a light supper. In nice weather, in the warm seasons, they took their meal on the porch and watched the lightening bugs play in the garden and among the trees. On colder nights they sat in their small living area, in front of a glowing fire and watched the embers spark and dance. But no matter the weather or the season, they were always together, in all things, heart and soul. It was as it should be.

Yes, as it should be, in every way, absolutely every way. He knew that, could feel it, right down into the very depths of his being; he knew it. It was right, these quiet evening walks and the meals that followed. It was right, the way they held hands as the days turned to nights, one after another. It was right, when afterward they moved together, always together, to their small sleeping room at the back of the house. It was right, as they quietly changed into sleep wear and slid under the covers of the futon to curl around each other and share their combined warmth. And as they reached out to each other, to touch and caress, in ways they couldn't before, back when Yoite was ill and ashamed of his dead and dying flesh, it was right. All was as it should be.

It was a beautiful dream. Until…

Yoite was in pain!

His heart was pounding so hard, too hard, like it used to before when he over exerted himself. But how could that be? He was fine now. Miharu had fixed him, fixed everything, and they were together now like they had always wanted, weren't they? Wasn't this what they'd wanted? He did, and he'd thought that Yoite did too. He was sure of it, wasn't he?

He had to stop this, stop the pain, make everything right again. He had to. He reached out to his love, to the only person he'd ever loved, or at least that he could remember loving. So much was missing. There were so many things he didn't know. But that didn't matter; none of it mattered, as long as Yoite was with him.

He reached…and nothing happened. He couldn't move. 'What?' This made no sense. Yoite was right here, right next to him. They were together, as they were supposed to be, forever. Why couldn't he move? Yoite needed him, he had to move!

But the more he tried the worse things seemed to get. Yoite's heart was pounding, so hard, so painfully loud. And he was crying.

'No!' Yoite didn't cry! That wasn't allowed. This was his dream and Yoite wasn't supposed to cry…ever, he wouldn't let him. But the more he railed against it, the more tears fell, wet and warm, into his hair. He'd fix it, again, as many times as he had to; to make it all right, to make Yoite happy. He had to.

And yet, he couldn't move, still couldn't move, to ease the pain, to make his love all better again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't save his Yoite, his love. He couldn't save the dream.

More tears, on his face this time, and he realized with a heart rending sob, that these tears were his own. 'Well,' he thought, as his heart pounded nearly as hard as Yoite's, as it broke into pieces too small for him to catch, 'at least we're still together. Even in this, we are forever together.'

Everything was dark, so dark. When had that happened? He could still feel the pounding of Yoite's heart, though it didn't seem as loud or alarming now. And while he was still surrounded by warmth, it was different somehow, not the same as it had been before.

'The tears,' he could still feel them, on his face and in his hair, but they seemed to be easing up, at least. He couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped him, but it didn't change the fact that something was different, that things were no longer…right.

He tried to move, just a little, just to see if he could. He had to be so careful though. He didn't want to wake Yoite, didn't want to cause him any more pain than he was suffering already.

Suffering, Yoite was always suffering, and no matter how much he wished otherwise, dreamed that it would never happen again, he couldn't stop it. Yoite wouldn't let him. Four words, four simple words, but they hit him so hard in that moment that he began to cry again.

'Damn.' He needed to pull himself together. If he didn't then Yoite would wake up to a thoroughly soaked shirt. Wet clothes for him meant catching pneumonia and Miharu refused to be the cause of that. Yoite wasn't strong enough to withstand another bout. But he had to admit to himself that this was a secondary concern; his greatest worry at the moment was that Yoite would find him crying. He couldn't do that to him, make him worry like that. It wasn't right, wasn't as it should be.

He knew now what had happened, understood where he was and why. He'd been sleeping in the guest room with Yoite, and he'd had a dream, a beautiful dream. The thought of it nearly brought another round of tears to his eyes but he managed to squash them just in time.

When he'd slipped in under Yoite's blankets he'd told himself it was just to keep his friend warm, that the blankets he had buried himself under weren't enough to keep the winters chill from him and he'd been shivering in his sleep. But once he'd gotten curled up next to Yoite, he couldn't help himself. His curiosity about the older boy had taken over; that, and his need.

They were so much alike, in so many ways, despite what Hattori-san had said. He didn't understand; no one did. They were alike, and they needed each other, completed each other in a way that was beyond ordinary understanding. He knew it, felt it, and he was pretty sure that Yoite did too.

So he'd snuck into Yoite's bed, and when he was sure that the older boy hadn't been disturbed and was sleeping soundly, he'd laid his head on that slim shoulder and held him. It was so warm, so comfortable; it felt so right to just lie there like that. It was perfect, addictive even. No wonder he'd had such a beautiful dream.

But he was awake now, and he was crying. And what was worse, Yoite was crying too, his heart pounding like crazy in his near emaciated chest.

'Did I do this? Was it my selfishness that caused this?' He knew it was. He had done this, had caused his best friend this pain, after promising to make everything alright, to make his wish come true. The feeling of guilt that suddenly welled up in him was almost unbearable. He had to stop this, but how? If Yoite was crying then it meant that he was awake too.

And then, the confirmation he had hoped would never come. "Please Miharu, keep your promise." It was a mere whisper, so quiet and choked from tears that he'd almost missed it. Dear gods, what had he done?

'Damn, damn, damn!' How could he have been so stupid? Granted, he didn't understand why Yoite was so self-conscious about being touched, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that he knew his friend was, and yet he had deliberately ignored that; ignored his need for privacy and personal space, all for a stupid dream that could never be. And as if being discovered in this position wasn't embarrassing enough, for both of them, he now had to find a way to detach himself without making it any worse. 'Kami, what was I thinking?'

He made a point of lying as still as possible. Maybe, if he was very lucky, Yoite would fall asleep again. After all, he wasn't as strong as he'd been when they first met; he fell asleep all the time lately, at the drop of a hat even. And if he was upset enough to be crying then he must be pretty worn out by now, or he would be soon. Maybe, just maybe…

But the longer he waited and hoped, the more unsettled he became. Yoite didn't seem to be calming down all that much and if Miharu was right and his proximity was the cause, then one or the other of them would have to move in order to fix this. And he was pretty sure that Yoite had no intention of moving any time soon. Not that Miharu could blame him; this wasn't his fault at all.

'I am such an ass!'


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Once again, I don't own so please don't sue.

Learning To Share: 3

"I'm sorry."

The statement was quiet, as was everything Miharu did. Yoite had suspected for a little while now that the boy was awake but hadn't had the courage to say anything himself. And then, in a voice just as quiet but with the slightest hint of sorrow, "I'll move."

"No!"

The force of the word surprised Yoite every bit as much as it did Miharu. But more than that, to Miharu it was confusing. Wasn't this what Yoite wanted? Wasn't his being here like this what was bothering him? "But…you're crying."

"It's not…I mean…I, uh," He could tell that his floundering was only confusing Miharu all the more, but how was he supposed to explain this? How was he supposed to tell the boy that while he wanted him to move, he also didn't want him to move, couldn't allow him to move, yet? 'Damn it, why is it always so complicated?'

"But, I'm making you uncomfortable. I can tell. You don't want me to touch you. I'm sorry, Yoite." And with that he started to shift, his leg of all things.

"Stop!" was all he could think to say as he squeezed the smaller boy to his chest. Miharu froze, confusion and unease evident in the way every muscle in his small body had locked up at that one word.

"I…I don't understand. You don't like to be touched, and you're crying. And…and your heart's pounding again. It hurts you when that happens, I know it does. I need to move, you should let me move."

"I can't." The words came out in a nearly choking sob, and that more than anything else convinced Miharu to stop struggling, to force himself to calm down and relax.

As he eased himself back down into the position he'd been in before, he realized, for the first time, that Yoite had one arm around him, and that it had been there for quite a while now. When had that happened, and how had he missed it? And if his being so close was what was bothering Yoite, as he'd assumed, then why had the older boy put his arm around him? Whatever was happening, it obviously wasn't what he'd thought it was, and the best thing he could do right now was to let Yoite work this out in his own way.

As gently as he could manage, Miharu tilted his head up to look at his best friend's face. "It's okay, Yoite," he whispered. "I won't move if you don't want me too, but you need to stop crying. Please. It'll make your chest hurt and you'll wear yourself out. Please Yoite, don't cry anymore."

There was a slight shudder in the chest he was laying on, and a hitch in the breath that escaped it. But then, very carefully, Yoite brought his other arm over and cradled Miharu's head in his palm, gently ruffling the mop of hair just above the base of his neck. So surprised was he by this unexpected show of affection that he almost didn't feel the light kiss on the top of his hair.

He shivered. He couldn't help it. Yes, he'd just told Yoite that he wouldn't move again but he just couldn't help himself. The wave of sensation and emotion that flooded through him at that touch was beyond his ability to control. And it damn near rendered him deaf, dumb, and blind.

He was back in that dream again, back under those warm blankets with Yoite, with the distant sound of the ocean breaking gently against the shore. But this time there was more, so much more. Where there had once been an easy companionship and shared closeness, both emotional and physical, there was now heat. A serious heat, but not like any he'd ever known before. It wasn't just a companionable, soothing warmth. It was way too hot for that, but it didn't burn either. And the weirdest part was that it wasn't external, like body heat. It was inside of him; way down deep, in his center…and it was the most incredible thing he had ever felt

"Wow."

"Hm?"

"Uh, sorry. It's just…"

"What?"

"…"

"Miharu?"

"C-could you, um…do that, again? Please?"

For a long moment nothing happened, and Miharu began to wonder if he'd embarrassed his friend again. Or maybe Yoite didn't know what he was asking for. Or, what if he'd fallen asleep again? Wouldn't that be ironic, given the circumstances? Then he heard it, a very soft,

"Okay."

And there it was again, that soft breath that bathed his scalp in warmth as Yoite turned to kiss his hair, spreading that incredible heat through him like a wave and making him shiver all over. His body went all loose and limp, like freshly made noodles that had been laid out to dry. He could feel himself practically melting into Yoite. Is this what people meant when they said they felt boneless? If so then they could take his whole skeleton and stick it on that metal pole in the biology lab for all he cared. He didn't need it anymore. "Mmmmm."

The sound of his name whispered softly into his hair brought him back to reality.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm."

He could just make out the sound of Yoite's quiet laughter at his answer, and feel the corresponding smile against the top of his head.

"Miharu."

"Hm?"

"You're purring."

-----

It was impossible to decide which he liked better; the sound of Miharu purring like a lazy kitten or the giggles that erupted when Yoite mentioned it to him. Not that it made any difference one way or the other. Both were very nice, musical in their own way, and special. They were certainly uncharacteristic of the indifferent and lack-luster attitude that Miharu had spent so much time hiding behind, back when they'd first met.

'Is he really that happy? Is it because of me?' He hoped so. But no matter how many times Miharu told him so, assured him that they were friends…well, old habits died hard, didn't they. So lost was he in his musings that he didn't realize until it was too late that Miharu had moved again, into a very uncomfortable position.

The purring comment had elicited more than a giggle fit from the boy who had snuck into his bed. Miharu had taken the remark to heart and gone into a full body kitten stretch, complete with the sound effects. After which, he'd returned to snuggling against his best friend, including pulling his leg up so that it made contact with Yoite's crotch. His reaction was immediate, the grunt and sudden curling up and away form the impact to protect himself, instinctive.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry Yoite, I didn't mean it. Damn it! Are you okay?"

Hs considered playing the whole thing off, attempting to cover the fact that such things didn't bother him physically by acting as if they did, as if he, like any other boy, would be 'grievously wounded' by such an accident. But Miharu was so worried, so apologetic, thinking that he was in pain; he just couldn't go through with it.

"It's fine. I'm alright."

"No you're not. I hurt you, again." That last bit sounded so guilt ridden, so pitiful that Yoite wanted to scream at him to stop it, stop acting as if everything was his fault. He turned to face Miharu and before he even knew what he intended to do he'd grabbed the boy by the back of the head and pulled their faces close together.

"I am fine." The words were clipped and harsher than he had intended, but Miharu got the message. At least, he looked as though he had; he'd settled back into a sitting position so that they now faced each other, and he wasn't mewling over him any more. He let go of the boy's head and muttered in a somewhat gentler tone, "You fuss like an old woman."

"Just over you."

"Do I look that bad?"

"Yeah."

'Yeah,' he supposed he did, to Miharu anyway, about the only person who really cared enough to notice. But…hadn't Yukimi been fussing at him lately too? Not to mention how upset Kazuho had gotten the last time he let himself get caught out in the rain. Hanabusa-san seemed worried too, if the way she was always shoving food in front him was any indication; and she'd insisted that he stay here even after catching them practically breaking into her house. Maybe Miharu wasn't the only one who cared.

It was a nice thought, one that gave him a pleasant feeling in his chest and stomach. But… "What if it's a dream?' He'd had so many; and not all them while he was asleep. Or were they? He fell asleep so easily these days it was hard to tell anymore. Maybe…

"Earth to Yoite."

"Uh?" was all he could think to say as he rubbed the spot on his forehead where Miharu had poked him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get you to come back to the land of the living."

What he was doing was sitting very close and staring at Yoite as if he was a bug walking along the window sill, and it was making him very nervous. "I'm here. I told you, I'm fine."

"Then I guess you can tell me what I've been talking about for the last five minutes."

"Uh…"

"You said that already. Problem is; I didn't. You lose." And with that he reached up and around to pull the blanket over Yoite's shoulders, "I said that if you're going to sit up the rest of the night you should cover yourself, before you catch cold," and tucked it firmly in place, in his lap.

The hiss that escaped him as Miharu pressed on his lower abdomen was quiet, put not quiet enough for Miharu to miss, and the look the boy gave him was one of both confusion and frustration. "You lied."

"I didn't."

"You said you were fine, twice, but you're not. If it hurts then just admit it already. There's no shame in it." And though the tone was one of exasperation, Yoite couldn't help but notice that he was fussing even more now than he had before. "I got hit there by a soccer ball once and couldn't stand up for half an hour. Seriously, it's okay if it hurts"

"But it doesn't." He'd tried, he really had, but he just couldn't keep the shame out of his voice at those three words, and if Miharu had been confused before he was absolutely dumb-founded now. He stared, and Yoite stared back, or he tried to, until the shame became too much and he had to look away.

"I can't…I don't feel things the way you do." There, maybe that would be enough. Maybe he wouldn't have to go any further. But he wanted too. Oh how he wanted to say it, to tell Miharu the truth, to just let it all come pouring out and have it done with. Keeping it in like this…it was poison, eating him up from the inside out, as if he didn't have enough to worry about in that respect already. He thought back to earlier, to the daydream he'd had. Maybe, just maybe, "I'm not…"

"It's okay, I know."

"What?"

"It's because of the kira, because you're losing your senses. Are you losing the feeling in your middle too, like in you're hands and feet?"

"No. No, that's…not what I meant."

"Oh. Then, what did you mean?"

'Now or never; isn't that the phrase?' He searched Miharu's face for what seemed like forever, desperately looking for anything, any hint that he shouldn't do this, shouldn't expose this very young and innocent boy to the ugliness of the world, to the truth. He found nothing of the sort, nothing but curiosity, understanding, and…love. Yes, there it was again, and there was no mistaking it this time, no way to pretend that it was a dream or wishful thinking. It was really there. He took a deep breath, as deep as he could in his condition, and began again.

"I'm not built like you. I don't have the same…parts."

His eyes narrowed slightly at that and he tilted his head to one side a bit, but that was all, just those small movements, the expressions that Yoite recognized as Miharu in heavy thinking mode. But, he was careful to note, there was no sign of fear or disgust; so far, so good.

"I, uh…I'm not…a boy."

The eyes narrowed even more, and this time the corners of the mouth turned down a bit too. Yoite held his breath, wondering. He'd seen other people do that. Sometimes it happened when they were deep in thought, trying to work out a very complex problem. He did it himself when he worked math equations in his head. The fact that Miharu was doing it now wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he knew from experience that it wasn't always a good thing, either. So, he held his breath, and waited, and watched.

He watched as the emotions flew, one after another across that too young face. Watched as the deep lines of thought turned to confusion…and then to hurt. 'Shit.'

"I don't understand why you thought you couldn't tell me. I mean; okay, so you yelled at the guy at the bus station for calling you a girl. It's none of his business if you want to dress like a guy. But why would you hide that from me?"

There was no going back now. Miharu was on the verge of tears and it was enough to break what was left of his heart. There was no way he could just blow this off, say it was nothing and pretend like he'd never started it. 'He'll run. He'll be disgusted or hate me, or both; and he'll run as far away from me as he can get.' Without thinking he lifted a hand to touch that smooth face. 'Please, one more time'.

"I'm not a girl."

There was a fairly long pause and then, "Oh."

This was not the reaction he'd expected. He was looking for acceptance, although he knew that was probably far too much to even hope for. Shock, horror, even screaming would have been understandable, but not this. Or…was Miharu so in shock that he'd fallen back on indifference? Was he hiding from the ugliness of what his best friend had turned out to be by ignoring it all together? "Did you…hear what I said?"

"Yeah."

"And…"

"And what?"

"It doesn't bother you, that I'm…?"

"What? You didn't say. I mean, you said you're not a boy or a girl, but you didn't say what you are."

"Uh…"

"It doesn't matter, if you don't want to say, but I am kind of curious about something."

"What?" Here it came. He'd ask his questions, and Yoite knew he would answer, and afterward, when it had finally sunk in, there would be the change. The change, not only in his face but in how he carried himself; in the way that he would pull away while trying to pretend that he wasn't; the way that he would try to act as though nothing had changed while his body language screamed otherwise.

"Well, you said that I didn't hurt you before because you don't have the…parts. I mean the guy parts, right?" Yes, here it came; and all he could manage to do was nod.

"And you said that you're not a girl so I'm guessing that means you don't have girl parts either, right?" Another nod, apparently he'd lost his voice now too, along with all his other senses.

"Uh-huh. So, I was just wondering…"

"Yes?" Was he shaking? He couldn't be sure, but he thought he might be shaking.

"Well, I mean…well…" Miharu took a deep breath and let it out slowly before leaning closer, in a very conspiratorial manner and looking him directly in the eye. At least there was that. Never let it be said that his little friend was a coward.

"I'm just wondering…how do you pee?"

He blinked, and blinked again, several times in fact. This was definitely not the reaction he'd expected, not at all.

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A/N: Okay, weird, I know. But I couldn't help myself. I know that when I was in school we didn't study anatomy until late in high school so I'm just assuming that Miharu doesn't know all the technical stuff about a girl's body, yet. And it just seemed like the sort of thing that might come up, considering. While I'm here I'd like to thank all the gang at manga dot com, and all the folks who have added this fic to their story alerts. It means lots.


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